fect that tends to deaden, if not to
destroy, in many minds, all faith in those spiritual instincts and
spiritual susceptibilities and apprehensions, which constitute the basis
of a living hope and faith in immortality, and through which, and
through which alone, man may know, _without_ thought, some of the
highest truths, truths which are beyond the reach of the discourse of
reason. While the reasoning faculties of a man may exist in vigor, the
ties which unite the soul _sympathetically_ and through assimilation,
with universal spirituality, may be sundered, and a spiritual world for
him there will then be none.

That there are higher and subtler organs of discernment than the
discursive intellect, and higher things to be discerned than can be
discerned by the senses, the lowliest of men and women, no less than the
most exalted in intellect and genius, have, throughout the whole
recorded history of the race, borne an incontrovertible testimony. 'The
natural condition of humanity,' says William Howitt, 'is alliance with
the spiritual; the anti-spiritual is but an epidemic--a disease.'

Great have been the conquests of Science, the last fifty years, and
great has been their influence on the temporal well-being of mankind.
But it must be admitted, perhaps, that these conquests, the product
mainly of the insulated intellect, have been somewhat at the expense of
'the interior divinity.'

Wordsworth, addressing his friend Coleridge, in the second book of 'The
Prelude,' says:

to thee
Science appears but what in truth she is,
Not as our glory and our absolute boast,
But as a succedaneum, and a prop
To our infirmity.

He has been speaking of mental science.

The present signs of the times, however, give promise that humanity, far
as it has drifted in one direction, will assert its _wholeness_, and
will 'render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the
things that are God's,' and that the awakening of 'the interior
divinity,' of the spiritual instincts and intuitions, will be as much
the aim of the education of the future as the exercise of the mere
intellect now is. This awakening must begin in infancy, when the child
first 'rounds to a separate mind,' and can respond to its mother's
smile, and feel her protecting care, and the rosy warmth of her love.
Then will the wise mother regard her child as almost wholly an
impressionable being, and will see especially to i